Take My Breath Away
by demitruli
Summary: [AU, OS] April was born cursed. A terrible demon with mesmerizing eyes is to steal her breath on her 16th birthday. With the help of an enchanted pendant, she managed to keep him from killing her. But what will happen when the demon refuses to leave her alone?


_**[A/N] This story is inspired by a comic that charminglyantiquated posted on tumblr. The link is on my blog, japrilgreys. Thank you for reading! And please, please, please review! It means the world to me, I'm not kidding :)**_

* * *

My family was born cursed.

Or, at least, a part of it. See, some weird twist of fate had it that one female child in every generation was born with a little moon curved to the back of her neck. And that girl never grew up to be a woman. For on the night of her 16th birthday, when the clock ticked midnight –could we possibly get more cliché here?- her breath was stolen away by a so called _despicable_ demon. Cause he was feeding on breaths or something. Or he just had a thing for redheads.

In my family, we were four sisters. Four girls. Four female children. And yet somehow I still managed to be the one to be born with the birthmark. Blame my luck.

As soon as I was born my parents flipped off -and me looking like an ugly duckling had nothing to do with it. For the most part. I was dragged to "specialist" after "specialist" –with them being some creepy old lady's performing some weird as hell voodoo tricks on me- to find a way to break the curse. But after years and years of looking, we eventually came to the conclusion that this curse could not be broken. Well, there was a way, actually, just like with all curses, and it had something to do with gestures of love, but I doubted that _true love's kiss_ or whatever would help at all if I was already dead from luck of oxygen. And it was a huge risk to take anyway.

There seemed to be no way to break the curse.

There was, however, a way to go around it.

Or so I hoped.

 _Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock._

I wrapped my hands tighter around my bent legs, shrinking into the corner of my now cold room. With each passing second my breaths were becoming all the more frantic, all the more desperate, yet all I could do was stare at the clock, frozen, one thought conjuring my mind.

Would they be my last ones?

 _Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock._

Unconsciously my fingers wrapped around my pendant. How could that alone be enough to save me? What kind of demon could be defeated by a little piece of jewelry?

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Just three more seconds now. Three more seconds until midnight. Three more seconds until April 23rd, until the day I would turn 16 years old. I closed my eyes.

 _Tick-tock. Tick-tock._

 _Tick-tock._

The moment that followed was so silent that I could hear my own heart beating frantically inside my chest, the blood suddenly feeling colder as it run through my veins. Fear tortured my guts, churning my stomach in tense cramps. I couldn't help but peek through my eyelids, scanning the room for any kind of movement, any kind of life. Or, well. Maybe not _life_.

And then it happened.

Slowly but noticeably, the shadows in the room grew larger, then smaller again as their shape changed, taking the form of a tall and slender –yet strong built- man. At first he was a plain black shadow, but then little details begun forming on his face, until eventually he looked like an actual person, apart from the cloud of black smoke that surrounded him.

Smooth, dark skin and full, sultry lips, his form rose and stood ahead of me before bending over me, his face getting extremely close, leaving me in full view of his eyes. His eyes held a beauty beyond imagination, mesmerizing yet raw. Dangerous. And as they bore into mine, I got lost in the color of soft emerald melting into clear ocean waters.

Speechless, I could only watch as the demon flashed me a sinister smirk. And gradually, painfully, his hands rose, long slender fingers nearing my body, aiming for my throat.

In response, my grip tightened around my pendant as I took a long, last breath.

But then, just as he was about to reach my skin, his hand shot back, like an electric current had hit him. I blinked, looking up at him with teary eyes. His expression went from shocked to confused to furious in a split second, and he immediately backed off and took a few steps away from me.

My heart, which had stayed completely silent for a moment, finally allowed itself a hopeful beat, and the breath I had been holding escaped my throat in the form of a surprised little laugh.

I had defeated the demon.

Except… he wouldn't _leave_.

The first months after that were rough. The demon had become my shadow. Both literally and metaphorically. No matter where I was and who I was with, he was there -but only I could see him, of course. Every minute of every day, his dark form hunted me, and he showed me absolutely no mercy.

As for me, I was entirely alone in this. My parent's joy had been so grand when I had remained alive that I couldn't find it in my heart to let them know the demon was still very present. I told no one, and so I had to deal with him all on my own.

Fact was, he never appeared in his full form in front of me, like he had on our first encounter. He usually never appeared at all, actually. What I had to deal with every day, though, was the constant flickering of the lights in my room, the regular scratching of nails on my window at night, things moving on their own, falling off selves and shuttering into a million pieces on the floor, or simply disappearing just when I needed them and of course the bloody writing on the wall usually forming short threats such as "YOU WILL DIE" or "I WILL KILL YOU".

After a while, those things didn't scare me as much as they frustrated me. I knew that as long as I was wearing my pendant those were but empty threats and he was but an annoying, vexatious presence who drudged me with scrubbing blood off walls every once in a while. And _whose_ blood was that anyway?

There were, however, a couple of things that truly frightened me.

The first one was the writing on the bathroom mirror. It wasn't the content of the phrases he wrote that scared me, though. Those were similar to the bloody ones. What I couldn't wrap my mind around however –and I only discovered this later on- was that there was something quite unusual about those finger trails on the foggy glass. I couldn't wipe them off. Because they were on the inside. It was as if there was another side to the mirror, a side only he could access. Half an inch from the mirror's surface, I could only stare at the ominous writing until it eventually faded away.

The other thing that no matter how much I tried I couldn't get used to was the whispering. See, he never spoke. Never. But every night as I was lying on my bed about to fall asleep, there was this virulent voice that echoed in my ears, so vivid as if someone was right behind me, close enough for me to even feel their warm breath against my skin. "April…" it called, and my name had never sounded more dreadful. It was as if a thousand screams of men, women and children were forming the words, the pain and suffering evident in their desperate cries for help as they sank deeper into their own, personal Hell.

I never really understood why he was hunting me or what exactly it was that he wanted from me. But whatever the reason, I was sure he was aware by now of the fact that, at this point, he just was wasting both of our times by being here. Still, he never left.

And so a few months went by and, eventually, the inevitable happened.

We got used to each other.

And it all started on a gloomy, cold afternoon.

* * *

I slammed the door forcefully, a sense of relief washing over me the second the familiar sight of my room came into view. I threw my bag next to my desk and kicked off my shoes before landing face-first on the dozens of little throw pillows on my bed.

It had been a rough day.

See, although I had gotten rid of the braces, the enormous glasses and the annoying pimples, at school I was still the so called "ugly duckling". People outside our family knew nothing of magic, curses and demons. Life out there was ordinary. So since I had to put on a mask of calmness every morning and play my part of an ordinary student, I had to put up with the bullies as well. Although to be fair, I was as ordinary as an apple is between oranges. I couldn't possibly fit in – in either life, apparently.

The temperature dropped a couple of degrees just then. I groaned in my pillows. "Go away."

The lights flickered, slightly crackling. A sense of desperation washed over me. "I said go away!" I growled furiously.

And then he appeared.

His slender shadow was suddenly on the wall across, facing right at me. I was taken aback for a brief moment. I hadn't seen his shadow for more than two months, and that had been only a glimpse of it in the mirror. But now, seeing him standing there all calm and composed, only made my fury erupt.

Now, I was not usually one to snap at others, but I was too emotional at that point to be calm. "Leave me the Hell alone!" I cried in despair, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. "I can't deal with you too, not today alright? Leave!"

But he didn't. He simply stood there, still, watching me closely.

"Leave!" I screamed, loud as I could -my voice breaking. "I'm tired of this! I'm tired of you! And I'm not afraid of you, alright? You can't hurt me, you can't scare me, so what the Hell do you want from me?!"

A moment went by. Then another one. And another one. I kept looking at this ominous shadow, waiting for an answer as if it had ever given me one. As if it had ever communicated with me without meaning to frighten me. As if it cared for me at all.

Furious at my classmates, my fate, him, me, I could feel the blood boiling in my veins like hot lava, hungry for destruction. I took a step back, clenching my fists in an attempt to not punch his face, because I knew it would only result in my hand getting broken when it crushed on the wall instead.

I was so furious that I couldn't even see clearly. And so when he moved, I didn't see it. I only felt his cold hand, suddenly resting on my shoulder.

I let out a gasp in surprise, slightly flinching away. His touch was cold, but not unpleasant. It had an airy feeling to it, like the soft caress of the autumn's breeze. It had my skin break out in goosebumps, a long shiver running down my spine.

He didn't pull his hand away, but after a couple of seconds he slightly squeezed my shoulder, the pressure just enough for his gesture to seem almost reassuring. Almost human.

And then two things happened at the same time.

The wetness spilled from my eyes, two large tears racing down my flushed cheeks and dripping down my chin.

And this odd, annoying presence before me became a someone. A person.

"What's your name?" I whispered, suddenly struck with the realization that I had spent so many months with him and didn't even know the most basic piece of information about him.

His hand fell from my shoulder, his head cocking to the side. Then he looked away, towards the shelf with my stack of CDs at the other side of the room. I followed his gaze just in time to see a disk move forward on its own and then fall to the ground. I looked back at him and he was waiting for me expectedly.

With a little sigh, I wiped my cheeks with the inside of my sleeve and walked up to the CD before picking it up. The cover was rather dusty, but I could recognize 'BAD' from a million miles away.

"Michael?" I asked and turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised. I thought Michael was the name of an archangel, not a demon. _Except…_

He firmly crossed his hands against his chest.

I took that as a no. "Mike?" I tried again, and I couldn't help but grin. The thought was just ridiculous.

He shook his head, his movements a bit rugged.

I stared down at the disk again. There were only two more words written on the cover, and I really doubted his name was Bad. I mean, _come on_.

"Jackson, then?" I thought out loud, but no answer came. Obviously.

And so I turned around to look at him again, and was taken aback by how close he suddenly was. Just a couple of feet away, he was facing me as always, but he made no further movement. No arm-crossing. No head-shaking. Was that a yes?

"Jackson…" I repeated, playing the name out in my lips. I supposed I kind of liked it. Although I really hated last names as first names.

But as he was standing there before me, a faint memory flashed before my eyes. It seemed like a lifetime ago that I was reading about curses and demons, trying to prepare myself for what I was about to face. And there was this little fact that I had completely forgotten through the years, a fact that was suddenly all I could think of.

"You told me your name." I muttered in awe, my voice barely audible because there had to be a mistake here. Either everything I had read had been wrong, or…

I blinked, looking up at him. "I know your name." I repeated unsurely. "Doesn't that mean I have power over you now?"

I waited patiently as the seconds run by, my mind running twelve miles a second. But he didn't move. Another yes.

And there I stood; absolutely speechless and shaken to the bone, trying desperately to make sense of what was happening out of the sudden. This creature I had so strongly despised up until mere seconds ago had just given me power over him at his own will, without me ever asking for it or even wanting it.

But why?

"Why did you tell me, then?" I wondered out loud.

He remained still for a while. As the seconds rolled by my expression clouded at his apparent unwillingness to answer. And then, in the most simple and nonchalant way, he shrugged.

I was the one to cross my arms against my chest this time. "You know this would be much easier if you would just talk to me right?" I mean, I knew he could. No way I could ever erase those horrid whispers from my memory.

The weird thing was that, even though he had no mouth, I was suddenly absolutely sure that he was grinning. He took a few steps back, shrugging once more. Then he disappeared before my bare eyes.

I shook my head, fighting to hold back a grin myself as I put the cd back on the shelf. I didn't even manage to walk back to my bed when an idea hit me.

"How about I get us an Ouija board?" I asked out loud.

A distant, baleful laughter echoed through the empty house.

* * *

"Here." I said as I walked in the room, kicking the door closed behind me since both my hands were busy. I placed the green mug on the bedside table and held the orange one against my chest.

"This is _my_ cup of cocoa to drink, and that's _yours_ to raffle ominously." I announced loudly, hoping I could actually get to drink my hot cocoa for once without it getting spilled all over me. "Are we on the same page?"

Almost instantly the drink's surface of the green mug begun ruffling, little drops of cocoa spilling all over the light wood of the table.

I smiled, satisfied. "Good."

I sat on the bed crossing my legs, and took a long sip from the orange mug, enjoying how the hot drink slightly burned my throat when I swallowed. I leaned back to rest my head against the wall. "I love winter." I murmured, letting out a long, happy sigh. "Cocoa, sweaters, blankets, fireplace… it's like I'm in heaven."

Before I even managed to finish my sentence the window snapped open with a loud thud, chilling winter air entering the room.

I shrieked, my eyes widening in shock. "Hey! What the Hell?" I jumped on my feet at once, leaving my mug next to his to fly to the window and shut it closed. "Are you insane? I'm gonna freeze to death!"

On the foggy window in front of me gradually appeared a few letters, the sound of fingers sliding against the glass following them as they formed words.

 _ **STILL LOVING WINTER?**_

I was about to roll my eyes when a distant light out the window caught my attention. And then I remembered.

It was Friday night, an exciting time for just every other teen. A kid from my class was having a party since his parents were away for the weekend, and although his house was a few blocks away, the lights and music were so wild I wondered how I hadn't even noticed them before.

I must have been standing there staring at the house for too long, as the foggy writing on the window managed to completely fade away before two new letters took its place.

 _ **GO**_

It took me a while to comprehend the meaning of the word. And when I did, I could only blink at it. "Oh. Oh, no, I… I'm fine here."

The word remained. I sighed.

"I wasn't really invited." I admitted with a shrug. "Not that it makes much difference. I wouldn't go, anyway. I can't dance."

And although it obviously wasn't the main reason, it still was the truth. I really couldn't dance. I had a decent voice and a good sense of rhythm, but when it came to moving along with it I was so cringe-worthy it had to be illegal.

I spared the house down the road a last glance and shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips. I'd rather stay home with a demon than go to a party. Oh, the irony.

As I made my way to my original spot on the bed, I noticed a little movement with the corner of my eye. I glanced towards it curiously, and my eyebrows shot upwards when I realized that a chess set was set on the carpet. The orange mug was placed next to the white pawn, while the green one next to the black ones.

I hesitated. "You… want us to play chess?"

The answer came when the drink's surface of the green mug begun ruffling.

I narrowed my eyes. "Okay…" I mumbled, dragging the 'o'.

I sat on my side taking my cocoa in my arms. I didn't even realize when it happened but a moment later a large grin was fairly evident on my face.

"I gotta warn you though." I said, taking a sip. "I'm _good_."

About thirty minutes later I was staring at the board in shock as his black horse knocked down my white king.

* * *

" _Wake up…_ "

The vivid whisper pulled me out of my sweet state of unconsciousness, and I groaned in response. As the residues of sleep wore off, my head got heavier and heavier, the pressure on it all the more prominent. "Ow." I grumbled, my hand flying to my forehead. The headache was way worse than it had been last night. And in addition, my throat was also sore.

Through heavy eyelids I glanced towards the clock. It was just passed the time I would normally wake up to go to school, and I realized I must have not heard the alarm clock. Not that it mattered anyway. I was not going to school in a state like this.

I immediately called my mom at work to tell her I'd be skipping this morning and ask her to inform the school, and went straight back to bed. I fell asleep at once, only waking up several hours later, burning with fever. I whimpered, feeling so sick I could barely open my eyes.

Once I sat up, however, I noticed not everything was as I had left it. On the bedside table next to me was placed a glass of water, an aspirin and a cup of hot, steamy soup. I almost cried in relief just then. It had been a while since my mom had last stayed home from work when I was sick, since I was apparently 'too old' to be taken care of now. I was so glad she had this time, though. I had forgotten what it was like to be this sick.

I took the aspirin and sipped my soup, all but moaning at the relief the warm liquid gave me as I swallowed it hungrily. Finally content and feeling better, I went back to sleep. I slept peacefully after that, the medicine taking effect.

It was only a long while after that that the sound of the phone ringing on my bedside table woke me up again, and I reached to pick it up and answer with a groggy voice. "Hello?"

"Hey, sweetie. How are you feeling?"

"Hi, mom. I'm better, I think..." I frowned. "Why are you calling?"

"Just to check in on you. Oh, did I wake you up? I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have called!"

"No, it's fine. I meant, why didn't you just come upstairs?"

There was a long pause after that. "I'm at work, April."

Another pause, longer this time.

I glanced towards the empty bowl on the table in confusion. "What?"

Then it clicked. And my heart skipped a beat.

With my eyes glued on the bowl, I answered slowly, stunned. "Oh, sorry I just… I thought I heard you downstairs. My mistake."

"Oh. Well, alright then, I'll let you rest. See you tonight, sweetie! I love you."

"Love you too." I mumbled, barely audibly.

I let the phone slide from my hand to the bed, and didn't make an effort to pick it up. I looked around the room for signs of him, but he was nowhere to be found. After a moment, with my head growing all the heavier, I realized it wouldn't be long before I fell asleep again.

With my eyelids heavy, I let out a happy sigh as I felt myself slide into the peaceful darkness.

* * *

I blinked rapidly at the page in front of me, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Were the letters supposed to be dancing around? Nah, I concluded. Must be the fact that I'm about to fall asleep.

I shook my head and shut my eyes in an attempt to make my mind focus. After a few failed attempts to wake me up, I decided I'd better throw some water on my face. As I turned my chair around, however, I noticed something red with the corner of my eyes. I glanced towards it in wonder. It had been a while since I had last seen this bloody writing on my wall.

 _ **GET SOME SLEEP**_. _**IT'S 2AM**_ _ **.**_

I sighed, a sad smile forming on my face. "I'd love nothing more, but I have to finish his essay." I pointed towards the papers on the desk in front of me. "It's due tomorrow."

Fresh blood poured out in shapes, as if the wall was bleeding words. _**WHAT ABOUT?**_

I pursed my lips. "Whether Shakespeare's view of women is misogynistic. And stop doing that, I don't really enjoy having to scrub blood off the entire wall okay?"

 _ **FINE**_ , he wrote, the letters way bigger and bloodier than before.

I rolled my eyes.

I walked to the sink in the bathroom and poured a generous amount of water on my face. I glanced at myself in the mirror, my gaze skimming over the dark circles beneath my eyes and my pale cheeks. Somewhere between the papers and essays I had to complete and hand over this week, I had forgotten my need of a goodnight's sleep. I sighed once again, wiping my face and walking back to my room.

Once I sat back down, however, I noticed the papers weren't quite placed as I'd left them. With a slight frown, I flipped through the pages and gasped.

Four more pages were written in my own handwriting, analyzing thoroughly every aspect of the subject. And the points were actually rather brilliant.

I glanced up the wall, my eyes widened. "Did you just finish this for me?"

The answer came with two little dots on the wall and a small curve resembling a bloody smile right under them.

I huffed in disbelief. "Creepy." I cleared my throat. "But thank you." I added, and I knew he could hear in my voice how genuinely grateful I was.

Right then, I sensed some sort of movement from below and looked down to examine the object nearing my barefoot feet. It was a little bowl filled with soap and water, a sponge floating in it.

 _ **YOU'RE WELCOME**_ , he wrote again.

I chuckled and grabbed the sponge, squeezing it slightly. "You're really something else, you know that?"

 _ **SO I'VE BEEN TOLD.**_

* * *

I sat on the couch with a huge grin on my face, an enormous bowl of fresh popcorn on my lap. With unrestrained excitement, I reached for the remote to turn on the TV, while throwing a piece of popcorn inside my mouth.

It was that time of the week again, my very favorite hour. The new episode of _This Is Us_ was on.

I was chewing eagerly until the commercials came to an end, and then let out a little squeal of excitement as the all-too-familiar faces of my favorite characters showed up on the screen, recapping the events of the past episode.

And then came the short intro with the theme song I so loved. I sank deeper into the couch, my pulse growing faster in an instant as the anticipation of the new material I was about to see had me wanting to start jumping up and down at the spot.

When the intro ended, I held my breath.

And in front of my eyes was suddenly escalating a basketball game.

I froze, unable to believe what I was seeing. I even rubbed my eyes with my fists, but when I reopened them, there was the game again. I briefly wondered if it was some kind of glitch. And then I noticed it was the channel that had switched instead.

I let out an embarrassingly loud cry of alarm and grabbed the remote as quickly as I could, switching back to my show. I almost whimpered when I realized I had missed more than half of the first scene, but I figured I would just watch it on YouTube later.

Half a minute after that, however, I found myself watching open-mouthed as an extremely tall guy made a three-pointer almost from half-court, the crowd cheering excitedly.

It didn't take me long to realize what was going on, and I groaned in advance. "Go to the other TV to watch your stupid game! I'm busy here!" I shouted to the air as I switched channels again. More scenes I missed. _Great._

And finally, the big moment had come. After two seasons of waiting, the cause of my favorite character's death would finally be revealed. I already knew he had died in a fire, yet I had no idea why his daughter, Kate, felt responsible for his death. The minutes passed and I could feel it in every part of my body that the revelation was close. When Kate finally sat down with her husband with a serious expression on, I could barely remind myself to breath.

" _Remember when I told you that it was my fault my dad died?"_ Kate asked, and I nodded furiously. I grabbed a pillow and held it tight against my chest, trying my best to keep myself from screaming out loud. _"Well, I haven't told you the whole story. The truth is…"_

"… _thankfully managed to make a three-pointer at the end of the quarter which gave them the momentum. I'm telling ya, folks, Thomas is havin' a heckuva day…"_

"Ahh!" I cried, grabbing the remote and trying desperately to switch back to the show. My thumb hit the button again and again with force, but the screen remained glued to the game. "No no no, hey! Turn it back, now!" I cried, but to no avail. My face turned red, the fury spreading in my veins quick as venom thanks to my flying heartbeat.

And then I snapped.

"Jackson! Stop it, _now!_ "

Before the words even managed to leave my mouth, the screen suddenly went black. The lights flickered rather intensely before turning on again, and then a long, heavy silence covered the room.

I realized what I had just done a moment too late. And I regretted it right away. A lump was in my throat, guilt suddenly overflowing my chest in a degree it was almost physically painful. The emotion was so strong it momentarily shocked me.

When I spoke again, my voice was breaking with regret. "I… I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to use your name like that, I swear." I swallowed, wincing when the action only made the lump more pronoun.

"I swear, it was a mistake. I'm so sorry, Jackson. Please…" the worlds were flying out of my mouth, just as they always did when I was upset. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to… Come back, please?"

The last word remained in the air, a plead waiting to be heard. I sat in agony for a sign that we were okay, all while biting down on my lower lip hard as I could.

And then the TV turned back on.

I let out a sigh of relief, the action almost violent. "Thank you." I whispered, my eyes closing. A little smile made its way to my lips.

Under no circumstances was I to ever use his name that way again. That was important. He had trusted me with it, for whatever reason, and I was not going to break that trust over something as small as a stupid show, interesting as it might be. With newfound determination, I opened my eyes again.

And there was his shadow, sitting on the couch next to me with the bowl of popcorn in his lap.

I jumped on my seat, startled, my hand flying to my heart. "Jesus." I whispered.

He laughed, the sound distant as always.

I rolled my eyes and glanced towards the TV. The game was progressing quickly, the green ones seeming to be winning. I frowned. "Okay. I refuse to be my mom, siting silent as my dad watches sports. You have to teach me basketball." I announced.

He seemed to not focus on the fact that I had just compared him to a husband. Instead, he took hold of a piece of popcorn and threw it at me. It hit the side of my face.

I huffed. "What? I'm a fast learner!"

He lost no time to throw another piece at me. This time, though, it landed right into my waiting, open mouth.

I chewed on it, a large grin on my lips. He shook his head.

* * *

It was so dark I could barely see as I laid on my bed above the covers. I was staring at the ceiling, biting down on my lower lip as I struggled to keep my hand from sliding down inside my pants.

The pulsating feeling between my legs had come out of nowhere, the tightness in my belly suddenly almost unbearable. It had been too long since I had last touched myself, and although it was something I wasn't exactly accustomed to or super comfortable with, the need now was strong as ever. I did not realize where it had suddenly come from but it sure was there, demanding my immediate attention.

And the fact that I couldn't quench the thirst with _him_ hovering around only made the need a hundred times stronger. My teeth's pressure on my lip increased, my hands clenching into fists.

A little touch wouldn't hurt now, would it?

I gritted my teeth. Yes it would. What if he caught me?

The spot between my legs only grew hotter by the second, the fire being the only thing my mind could focus on.

 _Just a little touch…_

I glanced around the room cautiously, searching for any movement, any sign that he was around. There was nothing. My teeth sank deeper into my flesh.

One tiny little touch, I could allow myself that. It would be over before it even started anyway, I was already halfway there just by thinking about it.

Quickly, I shoved my hand down my pants and under my underwear, sliding one finger across the little bundle of nerves on the top. A shiver of pleasure run straight to my core at the contact, my eyes flattering as I failed to keep them open.

I traced my finger on the side first, then around the bundle before reaching the tip and flickering it once. The pleasure came in waves this time, washing over my entire body. I lost no time to add a second finger, and then I used the unison of them both to trace circles around my clit -first slowly and then faster, adding pressure as the pace quickened.

I could hear my own breath becoming sharp and uneven, quickening to match my flying heartbeat. My knees begun to bend, my legs unable to remain still any longer. My one hand flew to my left breast, squeezing gently and then more roughly as my teeth were biting on my lip so hard I knew it would leave a little scar afterwards, but I didn't dare let my mouth open with my parents in the other room. Only God knew what kind of sounds were going to come out of it.

Only a couple of minutes had gone by and I was already nearing my climax. Little muffled moans were escaping my throat despite my teeth's grip, my nostrils were flaring and my knuckles were turning white from all the pressure I was putting on them. When I felt it coming, I couldn't help but let out a little grunt as my eyes rolled back inside my skull and I finally let the pressure unleash, pleasure shooting through me like an electric current, so strong I almost lost sense of my surroundings as I got lost in it. _Almost._

Still, I did feel it perfectly clearly when the covers slid away from beneath me, sheets suddenly covering my entire body.

I immediately pulled my hand out of my pants violently, my eyes snapping open. They struggled to focus as I sat up so quickly the room span. Pleasure was still pulsing through me though, and so it took me a second to realize there was a slender shadow on the wall facing me.

As soon as I focused on it, however, his shadow was lost from my view as I was forcefully pushed back to lie on the bed again. Cold sweat covered my skin as my eyes widened with realization.

He saw.

 _Of course_ he did.

Still, I couldn't even duel on that for too long since I was suddenly flipped to the side and curled up into a fetal position under the covers – my usual sleeping position- without me meaning to. "What the-" I began saying breathlessly, but then his shadow was suddenly right in front of my face. His one hand flew to my mouth, the ghostly touch of his fingers against my lips preventing me from speaking.

I glared at him with my eyebrows twisting into a frown, but then my attention was caught by the sound of the handle twisting down, the door of my room gradually sliding open.

My eyes widened at the view of my mother's head popping in as she checked in on me for the night to make sure I was sleeping, one of the things she did that I hated most. For once, though, the thought of me doing something I wasn't supposed to instead didn't seem so off point.

I forced my eyes shut at once, struggling to concentrate on making my breathing seem even with his hand still on my lips. He wasn't an issue, of course. Nobody but me could see him.

An endless moment after that I heard the door shut closed again, but only when his hand left my mouth did I dare open my eyes.

He was kneeling next to my bed, his body leaned in so that his head was hovering over mine. I didn't know if he could feel my breath that landed right on his face, but I sure wasn't feeling one from his part. I gulped, this sudden proximity making me nervous.

I tried moving my fingers, testing, and in relief I realized I had regained control over my body. Sucking in a deep breath, I pushed myself upward to pop up on my one elbow as I was lying on the bed.

In response he straightened his body, putting some space between us, so that our eyes were now on the same level.

A long moment went by, and I really had no idea what to say. I couldn't accuse him of stalking me; he was the demon hunting me for crying out loud! I knew he would always be around. It was my stupid hormones that had momentarily blinded me. It was all my fault, if anything.

I don't believe I had ever blushed as much as did at this second. And that said a lot.

But as the seconds rolled by and silence covered the tiny room like a blanket, a different kind of tension than awkwardness built up. As I stared up at is face intensely I suddenly got notice of the quick pace my heartbeat had taken, and for some reason I was absolutely sure he was listening at it too.

Before I knew it, his shadow straightened abruptly and then it disappeared completely, vanishing into thin air.

And I finally let my head fall back on the pillow, staring straight at the ceiling with the spot inside my legs pulsating like crazy once again, impossibly even stronger than before.

Well, crap.

* * *

"I was thinking of this red one. But then the green one looks pretty cute, I guess. I kind of don't like the back, though. What do you think?"

He simply shrugged, indifferent as ever.

"Could you show a bit more enthusiasm? It's the junior prom. Second most important thing to happen to a high-schooler, with the senior one being on the top of the list of course."

He shrugged once again.

I sighed. "It's a big deal for me. Okay? It's the very first time ever that someone invites me to a prom. To anything, for that matter. And Joseph is a really good guy." I pursed my lips. "Kind of nerdy. But good."

He stood still for a moment. I could almost hear him sigh as he gave in, and looked down at the dresses in my hands. He seemed to examine them for a moment, and then the red one begun sliding from my hands until it was soon hovering in the middle of the room in front of me.

I looked up at it, then back at him and gave him a smile. "I kind of knew you'd pick that one to be honest." I stated happily and threw the green one on the bed. I jumped up to reach the other dress, but as if gravity remembered it again it fell down, landing right on my face. I pulled a piece of the fabric up to peek at him, and I could feel him smirking. "Thanks." I mumbled, and headed straight to the bathroom.

I quickly showered, changed into the dress, put on my shoes and did my hair up in a little ponytail. My pendant shone around my neck as always, and I chose a couple of bracelets to match it. When make-up time came, I decided to go with simple, earthy colors and nothing extravagant. Not that I had a lot to choose from, truthfully. He did choose the lipstick for me, though, as it jumped right into my palm like he demanded I wear it. I didn't say no.

When eventually I looked at my reflection in the mirror, I smiled in satisfaction. It had been a while since I had been so pleased at my outlook.

Through the mirror, I watched his shadow walk in the bathroom and stand next to the door. I smiled at his reflection, and I was sure he could see the gratitude in my eyes -not so much for helping me choose as for supporting me in this.

He didn't stand there for long, though. His shadow came closer, walking up to me until he was right behind me. I couldn't help but turn around to face him. Once I did, however, I felt the atmosphere shift instantly. His hand rose to my face to grab a lock of my hair that had escaped my ponytail's grip and softly place it behind my ear. And that simple move was so pure, it touched me right to the core. At once, some foreign but familiar warmth crawled up my chest, my quickened inhales being the only sound in the room.

And then the doorbell rang. And this odd, enchanting spell broke.

He took a step back putting some space between us, and I forced my eyes away from his slender shadow to collect my thoughts. After a moment, I gave him a final glance and turned around to walk out of the room.

When I opened the door, I found Joseph waiting for me right outside. He wore a boutonniere and a kind smile as he escorted me to the car, and the night escalated lovely. I didn't dance at all, of course, but we had fun anyway, and afterwards we had milkshakes at Jimmy's. It was pretty awesome. Or, well, it would have been, had my mind been there at all.

When Joseph finally dropped me off, the unthinkable happened. He asked me out, on a date. And although under normal circumstances I wouldn't even lose a single second before accepting with the most awkward, desperate way, I found myself declining. And if I would just sit down for a moment and think to myself why, I would realize I actually knew the reason behind me holding back.

And it was a very, very wrong one.

* * *

I was forgetting something. I was absolutely sure of it. But no matter how hard I squeezed my mind, I still couldn't remember what exactly that was.

After almost fifteen minutes of pacing back and forth in my room in frustration, my cellphone rang. I didn't check who it was, I just answered the call without bothering to glance at the screen. "Hello?"

There was an odd underlining sound, like a TV with no signal. No answer came other than that.

I groaned. "Jackson! Get off the line, I'm trying to talk here." I yelled while covering the microphone, and then placed the phone back on my ear. The sound had slightly reduced, but was still there. "Hello?" I repeated, but still no answer came. With a frown, I checked the screen. The caller appeared to be _restricted_.

I rolled my eyes. A prank. Oh, great, thanks.

My thumb paused mid-air on its way to end the call, however, when I heard a muffled voice coming from the speaker. I placed the phone on my ear again. "Hello?"

"It's the cookies." A male voice I had never heard before said and I blinked in response.

"Uh, what?"

"You forgot to make the cookies your mom asked you to."

I was pretty sure he could hear the little _click_ my mind made as it connected the pieces together. "...Jackson?" I asked, the doubt and confusion written on my face.

"Bingo." There was a smirk in his voice.

I was just staring at the wall front of me in shock. This was him? But he didn't sound... _demonic_. This voice was normal, melodic even. Nothing like the horrendous whispers of screams that once upon a time whispered my name as I drifted off to sleep every night. "You can talk?" I mattered in shock.

"You've watched me turn day into night, is talking really that big of a surprise?"

I huffed, unable to believe this was happening.

"And your mom will be here in an hour so you'd better run to the kitchen, feisty-pants."

My mouth dropped open at the word, and before I could regain control of my voice the line went dead. _Oh, for the love of…_ "Wait!" I shouted to no avail and then glared at the phone before throwing in on my bed.

What on earth had just happened? How did he call me? Did he use a phone? Why did his voice sound so human? Why did his tone remind me of normal boys from my class instead of the despicable demon he was supposed to be? Why didn't he talk to me in person instead of calling? Why did he wait so long to talk to me? How could I call him back?

I shut my eyes and shook my head, shoving all the questions away. I knew there was no point in asking them, I would never get the answers I wanted.

I quickly made my way to the kitchen and begun gathering the essentials to make the cookies. It took me a bit more time than it should have, my mind seeming unable to focus to the task.

"Flour, flour, flour..." I was mumbling under my breath after a moment as I skimmed through the cabinets. I huffed in disbelief. "There's no flour!"

Which house had no flour? And how on earth was I supposed to make cookies without flour? Ugh! Damn the stupid trip I took to the supermarket this morning.

Of course after a moment he run to my assistance, with the cabinet above my head opening wide on its own and a bag of flour landing on the counter right in front of me. I blinked at it. "Oh."

But he didn't stop there. Out of the fridge came three eggs, and another couple of cabinets opened, out of which came a large bowl -the eggs cracking in it- and a mug, which dove into the white bag and poured flour in the bowl as well.

I giggled as I watched the dough being made in front of me, and by the time the cookies were all ready to be baked I had barely even touched them.

"You know what this reminds me of?" I asked with yet another giggle as I put the baking pan in the oven. "That scene in Sleeping Beauty where the fairies use magic to bake Aurora a birthday cake and everything is just flying around."

A wisp of flour landing right in my face turned my next giggle into a cough.

"Hey!" I protested. "That's so not fair, you know I can't hit you back!"

In front of me appeared his shadow, his arms opening in an invitation.

I raised my eyebrow and took a handful of flour in my fist. I raised it in front of me measuring the distance and then threw it at him with a quick move. Of course, it went right through him. But instead of just landing on the floor, I felt the exact same wisp hit me straight at the back of my head, as if I had thrown it at my own self.

"Ugh!" I growled, desperately trying to get the flour out of my hair.

The shadow threw its head back, and his sinister laughter echoed through the house.

"Cut it off! Now I have to shower again smartass!"

He kept laughing heartily as I glanced towards the clock on the wall. It would take at least ten minutes for the cookies to be ready. My eyes fell on him again, and I shot him a glare. "I'll go take a shower. Don't you dare burn down the house like in Annabelle." I threw in another movie reference, and he threw at me another handful of flour. I shrieked, running towards the bathroom as fast as I could.

I didn't take long. Five minutes after that I was already exiting the bathtub with a white towel wrapped up around me, tagged under my armpits. I headed straight to the mirror. "You know", I said looking at him through the mirror. He was casually sitting on the toilet right behind me. I bent over the sink to grab my hair brush from the shelf. "-random but- I was thinking lately that maybe we could… I don't know. Go to a road trip or something. What do you think?"

I expected him to shrug as he always did, but instead he was just sat there, incredibly stiff, I realized.

I turned around to frown at him, confused. He seemed to be staring at me rather intensely, although I couldn't really tell where with his lack of eyes and all.

I glanced down at my body. Everything seemed to be nicely covered with the towel. It was a bit short, truth was, but it was enough to cover my butt unless I, like, bent down or something.

 _Wait…_

I glanced towards the shelf where my hair brush had been as realization drew me in. Then back at him.

"Oh." I mumbled, the blood rising to my checks in a furious blush.

And at that moment his gaze was so intense that when I heard my mom's voice yell from inside I jumped ten feet up the air.

"April Kepner! Why is flour poured all over my kitchen?!"

* * *

"Don't you have a test tomorrow?"

I didn't even acknowledge him, refusing to focus my attention on anything but the page in front of me. I knew it was late, but I was on the last chapter of the book and the big revelation was just about to happen. I was magnetized.

"April." He pushed on, his voice coming out frustrated and amused at the same time.

I had put him on speaker, a thing I did a lot lately since he had turned out to be pretty fascinating to talk to, but at this moment I had to clench my hands into fists to not push the phone next to me off the bed. "Shhh! I'm on the last pages, shut up!"

To my surprise, I actually heard him snort through the phone. The sound was so nonchalant, so ordinary, and for a moment I found myself stunned by the uninvited heat that flooded my chest.

"The father is the killer."

And then that moment ended.

"The… Ugh! Why would you do that?! Why did you-" I threw the book on the bedside table. "Are you insane?! Now you ruined the entire thing!" I shouted in rage.

His laughter was infuriating. "That was the point. You need sleep."

I felt my cheeks flush. "I'm the judge of that, not you."

"And you're a poor excuse of one, so someone's got to do the job for you."

I groaned and buried my head in my hands in desperation. "You are… _horrible_." I spat out the word with vice.

"And yet you fell for me anyway."

Like a slap to the face, the shock his sentence caused me had every ounce of irritation evaporate from my body at once. Instead, I felt my guts sink to the floor as my head shot up, all the blood drowning from my face.

There was no way in Hell –excuse the pun- that he had just said what I thought he had.

My attempt at a teasing tone was pitiful. "Did I?"

"Didn't you?"

I chuckled, the sound coming out all shades of wrong. "Get over yourself."

I wanted to sink in the bed and disappear.

I took hold of the phone and was about to end then call when his shadow suddenly appeared in front of me. He grabbed the phone from my hand and held it himself. I rolled my eyes, getting under the covers as he kneeled next to the bed. "Goodnight, Jackson." I strictly said and turned my back on him as I laid down facing the wall.

"You're not the only one, you know."

The room went dead silent in an instant. Not even my breaths could be heard, since I abruptly stopped breathing altogether.

 _What did he just say?_ My voice screamed at myself, but I could only lay there, frozen. I couldn't feel my limps. Yet, somehow, I still managed to force them to move, to turn my body gradually towards him, afraid that the crack line of the joke would come as a laugh so loud it would startle me.

Still, when I carefully took in his face I could be sure of nothing. He had no eyes, no expression for me to attempt to read. For all I knew, he could be biting back chuckles, his eyes overflowed with utter amusement at the tiny, irrational and absolutely wrong little glimpse of hope inside my chest. "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked nonetheless.

"What do you think it means?" he asked instead, his tone dead serious.

I felt my heart skip a beat, before taking a new, frantic rhythm. I was painfully aware of the lively blush on my cheeks, but the knowledge that he probably was too made it even more painful.

And then he leaned closer, his hand rising to cup the side of my face. His thumb traced an invisible pattern on my cheek, and then took a turn to go lower, reaching my lips. His touch was impossibly gentle as he caressed my skin, but it was so intense at the same time, igniting a foreign kind of heat inside me that I couldn't control.

"Let me clear that up, then. You're not the only one…" He murmured, his voice dripping honey. "…who finds the other _horrible_."

I blinked at him once. Twice.

He threw his head back and burst out laughing, his hand dropping from my face.

I hit his chest. "Asshole." I mumbled, but I couldn't help slightly chuckling myself.

"It's a demon thing." He explained, his shoulders still shaking.

"I bet." I said, shaking my head.

But as he calmed down and silence eventually covered the room, I found myself on the verge of asking the one question that had been burning on my tongue since the very beginning, and I knew this was the perfect chance to ask it. Reluctantly, I sucked in an unsteady breath and my eye rose to his face. "Why do you do it?" My voice not accusing but still stern.

"Hm?" he sounded as if I had just pulled him off some train of thought. "Do what?"

"Hunt…" I shivered. " _Kill_ people. What's the purpose of this curse?"

He paused, simply looking at me. "You know I can't tell you that." He said.

I sighed. It was far from the first time I had received that answer. "Is there anything you _can_ tell me?"

To my surprise, he actually considered that for a moment. Taken aback by the fact I might actually receive some answers, I could only stare at him in anticipation.

When he finally spoke, he seemed to be picking his words carefully. "I am not… the boss there. I don't make any decisions. I just follow orders."

I frowned, processing the information. It had never occurred to me that he had supervisors. "And you can't just… stop? Quit?"

He chuckled, the sound bitter. "Things are not that simple, April. I don't even want to begin imagining what would happen if I tried. If I as much as _considered_ trying. Besides, I never had a reason to." There was a suddenly a smile in his voice. "You don't seem to realize it but your lives mean to us as much as the lives of ants mean to you. You wouldn't die to save a couple of ants, would you? You are all just some worthless little humans to us."

I almost snorted. I could believe I was hearing this. "I am not a worthless little human." I protested, my voice harsh.

"No." he softly agreed. "No, you're not. Not anymore."

And just like that, the frown between my eyebrows disappeared, my own expression softening.

I heard him sigh before he stood up and took a step back. "I should let you sleep."

An unexplainable urge to stop him rushed through me then and I bit my lips. Without thinking about it I reached to grab his wrist and he instantly stopped mid-step, his gaze falling to my hand. I couldn't look him in the eye when I spoke again.

"Stay?" I pleaded, my voice unsure.

He hesitated. "What?" he asked after a moment.

I gulped. "Spend the night with me?" I managed to mumble, probably too softly for human ears to catch.

He seemed to not know what to say. He looked at my face and then somewhere to my left. "I spend every night with you. You know that."

My hands fell to my lap, my gaze following them. "I know, I mean… _physically_. Stay."

"April… I can't sleep."

I half smiled, my fingers, tangling and untangling rhythmically. "I figured you couldn't. And you can just leave anytime later if you get bored but I just wanted… I…" My eyebrows knitted together, and I eventually shut my eyes and wrinkled my nose in a grimace. "You know what, it's stupid." I huffed. "I'm fine, you go. Sorry. Goodnight."

It took me a long moment to reopen my eyes after that, and when I did he wasn't there. I shook my head at myself, not knowing what had gotten into me in the first place. Spend the night with me? To do what, cuddle?

I grinned. Cuddling with my demon. What else would my mind come up with?

With a sigh, I laid back down, turning to face the wall again. And there he was, all laid and comfy on the bed right next to me.

I jumped and let out a little shriek, my heartbeat flying. "Jackson!"

He laughed. "I'll never get tired of this."

I groaned, struggling to make my breathing even again. "Give me a warning next time, would you?"

"Oh, but where's the fun in that?"

I gaped at him and he chuckled again, before opening his arms at me in an invitation. I froze, my eyes flying from his arms to his face and then back again. _Seriously?_

"Or, you know, we could just lay next to each other like statues and stare at the ceiling. That sounds fun too." He said with a shrug, as if replying to my thoughts.

I couldn't help but smile at him at that. "Alright then." I exclaimed as I reached for my phone. "But no more talking."

I abruptly ended the call. If I were to not entirely fail that test tomorrow, I needed to actually get some sleep.

I could feel him grin as I neared him, and as if it was the most natural thing in the world I laid my head on his chest and wrapped my arm around his waist. At once his arm wrapped around my own back, as he embraced me softly.

"Very human." I commented, and his hold tightened a bit in response. I grinned. "Goodnight, Jackson."

And as I drifted off to sweet unconsciousness, I felt something soft brush against my hair. I was too far gone, however, to realize it was his lips.

* * *

And at last, the day I never thought I would live to see finally arrived. My seventeenth birthday. A great big deal, if you ask me. But apparently, my parents had more important stuff to do than be with me.

I let out a sigh. I didn't mean to be ungrateful. I knew they didn't enjoy going to work instead of celebrating with me, but I just hated that I had to spend this important day all alone.

Or well… Not _entirely_ alone.

The second I entered my room, Hell spread loose. The lights begun flickering, balloons hovered all over the room, the radio turned on playing an all too familiar 'Happy Birthday' song and a confetti popper exploded, releasing hundreds of colorful little pieces all over the room.

With a loud gasp, I let the bags I had been holding fall from my arms, bringing my hand to my mouth instead.

And then he appeared. His shadow stood in front of me, a birthday cup on his head and a huge, colorful sign in his hands with the word _surprise_ written in bold capitals on it, followed by a large number of exclamation marks.

No. No, I was far from alone.

"Oh… my _God_." I whispered, the wetness in my eyes increasing inevitably.

" _God_ had nothing to do with this." He said with a huff.

I quickly scanned the room, spotting my cellphone on my desk. He had put himself on speaker again.

"Happy birthday, feisty-pants." He chuckled.

My grin was so wide it almost tore my cheeks. I giggled and run up to him, jumping right in his arms. I wrapped mine around his neck, sealing my hold tightly. "Thank you, Jackson." I mumbled against the crook of his neck.

I felt his arms wrap around my waist after he let the sign drop to the floor. "Thank _you_." he said instead.

"What possibly for?"

"For everything. But mostly for being you." his voice wavered, exhilarated from the sudden tension between us.

That had me pulling away from the embrace to look at his face. I couldn't help but be completely taken aback by what he had just said. I gave him a disbelieving look.

"I got you something." He said, dismissing me.

I took a second before reacting. "You did?"

He nodded and handed me a tiny little wrapped box with a ribbon on it.

I examined it closely. It felt like something heavy was inside. While wondering what it could be, a thought passed my mind and I let out a giggle. "You didn't go out shopping for this, did you?"

"Obviously not." He said, his tone almost offended. "I actually made it myself. Sort of."

I paused my movements the second the words sank in. "You _made_ it?"

He chuckled nervously. "Can you just open it already?"

It took me a moment to find my fingers, but when I did they struggled furiously with the wrapping, finally managing to open the box. I turned it upside down and a thin chain fell in my palm, a shiny little moon on it.

My eyes were glued to the bracelet, so wide it was embarrassing but I couldn't bring myself to care. "It… It's just like _my_ moon." I mumbled, my one hand flying to the back of my neck. And it was. The little birthmark under my fingers was the exact same size, shape and color as the one in my hand. The little details were incredibly close as well, and they would require not only incredible technique but also hours of memorizing to reenact. "You curved this?" I asked, breathless.

He nodded. His arms were behind his back, his whole stance a bit uncomfortable.

I shook my head, a smile at my lips. "It's so _beautiful_." I murmured, tracing a finger over it, unable to believe it was real. "So beautiful..."

"It's nothing special, just… I wanted you to have something to always remember me." He told me with a shrug.

With my chest heavy with emotion, I still managed to slightly huff. "As if you will ever give me a chance to forget you. You're on my feet all the freaking time!" I chuckled.

He was serious, however, when he spoke. "Right." He simply said, taking a bit too long to answer.

I didn't pay him much attention, still magnetized by the little moon. "Is it silver?"

With the corner of my eyes I saw him shake his head. Confused, I finally raised my gaze to look at his face. "What then?"

He shrugged once more. "Something you needn't know about."

"Wait." My eyes went wide as I realized what he meant. "This is not from _here_?"

He chuckled. "No. It's from… a very different place."

I couldn't believe my ears. "Like a whole new element?"

"It's not new _there_ , but yes. It's actually pretty special. It keeps away dangerous things."

I raised my eyebrows at that. "Does it keep you away?"

He shook his head.

I smiled, satisfied. "Good. Then I'll put it on." I raised my arm between us, my wrist facing upwards. "Help me?" I pleaded, holding the bracelet up to him.

He reached for it, his hand brushing against my skin and I felt a delicious shiver run down my spine in response. I bit my lips as he took his time, watching closely as his fingers worked on the clasp with incredible delicacy. Once he finished I looked down at it satisfied. "Thank you. _So much_." I mumbled eventually, slightly smiling. "I got you something too, but now it just seems incredibly stupid."

"It's… _your_ birthday." He pointed out, confused.

"And that makes it exactly one year since I met you. So, happy anniversary!" I joked and chuckled along as I went to the door to pick up the bag I had dropped on my way in. "Here!" I chirped, handing it to him.

He gave me a hesitating look before opening it and glancing inside. Then he slowly put his hand in, and pulled out the green shirt I had gotten him. "A… Boston Celtics shirt?" He questioned.

I giggled at his tone. "Yep! And I got me a matching one for when we watch the games on Sundays." I pulled down the zipped of my jacket to reveal a much smaller –yet still too large for me- shirt. "See? _Celtics rule!_ " I cried, throwing my fist to the air.

He stared at me in disbelief. "I never should have taught you basketball."

"Look at the back." I urged him on, ignoring the comment.

He turned the shirt over and did as I asked. Then he laughed out loud. He turned the back of the shirt towards me, shaking his head. "You're impossible."

"I know." I grinned proudly. The decision to have the words _'Little Devil'_ written in the back instead of a player's name was a last minute one, yet it had worked out perfectly. I wasn't going to show him how mine wrote _'Feisty-pants'_ any time soon, though.

He was still chuckling when he spoke, his attention still at the shirt. "My boss will be so mad."

 _Boss_. I giggled and then shrugged. "Oh, I bet he is already. I'm still alive, remember?"

"How could I forget?" he mumbled, finally looking my way. And there was just something about the way he said it that had the atmosphere suddenly shift. Every sense of teasing was gone, replaced by a heavier, yet much more exciting mood. Those sudden mood switches used to give me headaches at first, but now I was so used to them that normal conversations seemed to be lacking their usual attraction. No other interactions ignited so intense feelings in me, and that alone I found as much miraculous as I did terrifying. Because it could either mean it was just something that demons did -intensifying people's feelings- or it could mean that it was just me that felt like this around him. And that would be…

I shook my head, abruptly ending the path my thoughts had taken.

"What?" he asked softly.

I waved it off. "Nothing." I mumbled, and tried to find something to change the subject. I didn't need to try hard, however, as that was when I noticed the birthday song had at some point switched to a slow ballad without me taking notice of it. I brushed it off as non-important for a mere second, as he took that ridiculous birthday cup off his head and left it on my desk behind him. I was glancing at it curiously until he took a step towards me, making me focus on him again. His hand rose, a simple invitation.

I snorted, the sound so unfitting with the heartwarming atmosphere. "You can't be serious."

"Shall we?" he asked nonetheless, slightly bowing as if we were at the middle ages.

"I am not dancing with you." I stated. I was going for a firm tone but my voice was quivering. For a second, I truly wished I could dance. However, I wanted to believe it was because of his so proper invitation rather than the prospect of being that close to him.

My weak will was obviously not apparent just to me. "Well, I can always make you." He said, his murky tone having a fairly evident humorous underline.

I rolled my eyes. "You wouldn't."

He did.

In a mere second he was standing right in front of me, no movement between the two states. Before I could even blink his hand was on my waste, as he pulled me to him so that our bodies were pressed together. His other hand came to hold mine, putting us in what I assumed was a waltz position.

I stared at him in horror as panic bubbled up inside my chest at the realization of what was happening. "Jackson." My throat was so dry I could only manage a whisper. "I honestly can't dance!"

"Don't worry, silly," he whispered back. "I can."

Without a warning, I felt the arm that was wrapped around my waste support my entire weight as he lifted me to slide his feet under mine.

And then we were whirling, too.

My breathing escalated immensely at once, my eyes wide with disbelief. "You're insane!" I cried.

"And you're dancing." He said, a smirk in his tone.

I huffed, at a loss for words.

After a few minutes of effortless waltzing, he put me back to my own feet. I had sort of gotten a hang of the rhythm, so following his movements was not as hard as I originally had imagined. I let out a little giggle of disbelief when I managed to go by a large amount of time without stepping on him at all, and soon I was able to take my eyes of my feet and look at his face instead.

It didn't come off as a shock when I realized he hadn't looked away from my face the entire time. The intensity between us grew almost unbearable as we simply looked at each other, probably due to our bodies' minimum distance. I was extremely aware of exactly how minimum that distance was, with every part of my skin that came in contact with him seeming to be run by an electric current, my body having never felt more alive.

Slowly, the song came to an end, the melody becoming unbearably sweet but with a quite sad undertone. As the last notes echoed melancholically in the room, he slightly pulled away, taking a step back to twirl me around.

But as I span, my usual clumsiness suddenly returned to me all at once, and I completely lost my balance. My legs bucked, and I began falling forward, before he grabbed my arms to prevent me from falling. But acting out of reflex, my hands short up to protect my face anyway. And on their way there, my pendant got tangled up with one of my fingers, the force of the action causing the little chain to break.

My pendant, my only protection of the dreadful curse, landed on the wooden floor with an almost silent, yet deafening thud.

And three things happened at the same time. The lights went off. The temperature dropped. And he disappeared.

Without his support I fell on the ground, right beside the broken pendant. My palms slapped on the floor but I didn't feel pain. I was suddenly numb. Numb with paralyzing fear that slipped into my core to torture my guts, churning my stomach in tense cramps.

I quickly struggled to sit up and look around the room in alarm, searching for him. And I did find him. But it wasn't exactly the version of 'him' I was expecting to find.

He was _there_.

Not his shadow, but him himself, flesh and mouth and breathtaking eyes -just like I remembered him from exactly a year ago when he had come to steal my breath and end my life. The cloud of black mist was also there, embracing his slender form in the most malevolent way. And with a silent gasp, I felt the realization sink in.

In one mere second, everything had changed. One tiny, little meaningless second was enough to turn this impossible, heavenly moment into my worst, inevitable nightmare.

I was going to die. Jackson was going to kill me.

And for a second, that was all I could think about. All I could comprehend. The knowledge that in a few moments I would no longer exist.

This was it. My life's end.

And I wasn't ready. _God_ , I wasn't ready.

I hadn't done anything yet. I had barely lived. No one had loved me yet. I _wasn't finished_ yet.

As I was sat on the floor, I slid my body backwards, crawling away from him. My movements seemed quick and torturously slow at the same time, the fear completely controlling my every thought, my every action, every cell of my very body. My nails dag in the hard wood as I violently dragged myself away from him, like a wounded animal desperately trying to get away from its predator.

And then my back hit the wall, violently knocking all the air from my lungs.

And the predator started walking towards me, with slow, steady steps.

The paralyzing terror spread through my body like icy, liquid metal. The sweat drenched my skin as my own eyes throbbed, filling with burning, unshed tears. The ringing silence vibrated in my ears and I could feel my heart thumping against my chest.

He reached me, then, his feet touching mine as he took his last step towards me. I quickly pulled my legs to my chest and wrapped my arms tightly around them, curling myself in a ball against the wall. Becoming as little as I possibly could. Wishing I could somehow disappear.

I didn't dare look up. I didn't want to see his face. I didn't want to acknowledge how he would be the one to end it all. But he left me no choice. He lowered his body, reaching down so that he was kneeling before me, a mere foot from my body.

I shut my eyes, refusing to look at him. My fingers were curled into a fist, nails digging into my palm. I couldn't only hear my rapid breaths, but I could feel the air flowing in and out of my lungs with painful awareness.

 _Would these be my last ones?_

"April."

The air was forced out of my throat in the form of a violent sob, my entire body breaking in trembles.

No. He couldn't do this. He couldn't make me see the monster that was killing me was _him_. My best friend. My Jackson. I couldn't bear that knowledge. I couldn't bear losing this image of him I held in my heart.

"April, please…" he pleaded. "Please, open your eyes."

More sobs wrenched my body, my knuckles turning white from all the pressure I was putting on them. I struggled to breathe, not getting enough oxygen as panic took over me. Furiously, frantically, I shook my head.

"Please, sweetheart. Please..." He murmured, and his voice –heavy with emotion- broke.

Oh God. I hated him. I _hated_ him for doing this to me! I was gasping for air, my head pressing against the wall with such force it hurt immensely, yet I couldn't even acknowledge the pain.

I heard him let out a shaky, unstable breath, which landed right on my face. A breath. A warm, actual breath, _his_ breath.

He was breathing. I had never heard him or felt him breath. Momentarily, the sobs stopped, surprise taking over me.

"Please, open your eyes." He whispered now, his voice tortured. "I just want to see them one last time."

And no matter how much it would hurt me, I figured that in exchange for all those beautiful moments he had given me, I could at least give him this. And my eyes flattered open.

It was hard to see with all the still unshed tears, but he was close enough that I could clearly see his face. He had moved even closer than before, his body bending over my curled legs, his arms at my sides on the floor, supporting his weight as he leaned into me, his face mere inches from mine. His brilliant blue eyes bore into mine, their inhuman beauty holding such an intensity that it captured my every thought.

And it was all so impossibly familiar. Exactly a year ago we stood in the same positions, in the same corner of the room as he raised his hand and attempted to take my breath away. Yet this time, as his hand rose towards me, there was one thing that was undoubtedly different. That sinister, ominous smirk he had given me that had hunted my nightmares for weeks... it wasn't there. His lips were pressed together now, his expression hard. Focused. _Pained._

His hand didn't go for my throat, but his palm landed on my cheek instead, softly cupping it. And I almost gasped at the contact. His touch was so different than the ghostly one I was used to. It was… physical. Warm.

I blinked at him, taking a deep breath, as I got lost in the depths of his eyes. And at that point, I would have been content to always remain there, to never come back to the surface, if it weren't for the sadness in them. The sorrow. The heart-wrenching pain.

I frowned, my mind too bewildered, too numb to understand. I couldn't comprehend what he was feeling. Couldn't think.

But I was able to realize I felt no fear anymore.

Because, exactly, he _was_ him. He _was_ my Jackson. I knew that he was only following orders now, orders he couldn't afford to disregard. He didn't want to kill me. He simply had no choice.

And then it all clicked together. My life might not have been long, but it was full. Bad times aside, I had had a beautiful childhood full of heartwarming memories, two parents that loved me to the moon and back and three sisters who were complete assholes but I knew would turn the world over for me. And this last year had been the single most terrifying and insane and incredible year of my life, and I would always cherish the moments he had given me, no matter if I was alive in this world or not. I was wrong before. I had done things. I had lived my life. I had been loved. Some people never got to do that, but I did. I _was_ finished.

And I could bear anything if I knew the people I loved were going to be okay. Him included.

It had to happen. I had to die.

And with the knowledge that he would be alright only if I did, I was ready to.

The tears finally spilled then, rolling down my cheeks, liberating.

I could do this. It was my destiny, after all.

I took a last deep breath, memorizing the feeling of relief that the oxygen brought as it filled my lungs for one last time. The tears formed two little streams down my face as I looked into the heaven of his bright cerulean eyes one last time, trying to express all my gratitude for the time we spent together in a single glance. And then my eyelids flattered closed and softly nodded at him to proceed.

 _Just make it quick_ , was my final silent plea as I stood frozen, waiting for death to come.

I didn't know what I expected him to do next, but I sure wasn't expecting for him to kiss me.

His lips crushed against mine with force, hot, fiery, passionate and demanding, and I was completely unprepared. The breath I had taken was abruptly knocked out of my lungs, my eyes snapping open for a brief second in shock. They didn't remain open for long, however, as then his lips begun to move against mine, lighting my brain on fire.

Warmth spread throughout my entire body at once, my every muscle relaxing, my arms releasing their grip on my legs to touch him instead. As they locked around his neck, my legs opened to make some room for him and I pulled him closer to me without further thinking. His one hand moved from my cheek to tangle in my hair, as his other one found my waste, pressing my body on his with despair.

My lips parted and he took advantage of that, pulling my lower lip in his mouth and sucking on it, and the pleasure that pulsed through me in response was so intense that I felt my eyes roll back inside my skull. When he released it, however, he didn't come back for another kiss. Instead, he pulled away. His hands left my skin, his body lifting from mine so suddenly I felt bare.

My eyes snapped open, confusion clouding my brain, only to meet my cold, empty room. I blinked rapidly, coming back to my senses only to realize he wasn't there. He was _nowhere_.

He had disappeared.

Hurt hit me like a punch to the gut, and the tears started rolling again. In the form of a gasp, air entered my lungs as I sucked in a long, much needed breath, the familiar feeling of relief overflowing my senses. I immediately took another breath. And another one, and another one. I blinked away the tears, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Why I was still breathing. Why I was still alive.

See, here's the thing about curses. They are words.

There are a hundred ways to steal breath.

But only one way to break a curse.

* * *

He knew.

He knew, he freaking knew. He knew this would happen all along, thus the nice words and the present and the dancing… He knew that was goodbye and he told me nothing.

And now I had no idea if he was even alive, if that was what he had always been. I had no idea what had happened to him. It had been the longest, most torturing week of my life and there had been no sign of him and that was driving me absolutely insane.

I was worried sick. I knew he was supposed to obey to his _superiors_ , whomever those might be, and I knew sparing my life, saving my life was him going against the orders given to him and he had told me himself there would be crazy consequences to that and… and I would rather have died a billion times than have to live the tormenting hell that this week had been.

I needed to find him. I needed to know he was okay. I could handle being away from him if only I knew he was alright.

Or so I told myself.

With the little curved moon sealed tightly in my palm - resembling the birthmark that had completely disappeared from my neck that day, just like any trace of him- I had been searching through all sorts of books that had anything to do with curses and spells for endless hours. I even read ' _Summoning Demons_ _-For Dummies'_ , but it was to no help.

Yeah, yeah. Humor me.

It felt like I had spent more time going through books this single week than I had my entire life, and that alone said a _lot_. I tried everything. This morning I came as far as to cut my finger open with a kitchen knife for three drops of my blood to land on the little moon, the only thing of his I still owned. Theoretically it was mine, but technically I considered it his nonetheless. Besides, even the shirt I had given him had disappeared, so I was really out of options here. I had to perform all sorts of odd witcheries and pronounce the weirdest of spells, and once I had checked out all of the things on the list, there was still no trace of him anywhere.

I sat still on the ground, with no strength to move, gazing around the room in despair. It wasn't working. Nothing was. All those stupid freaking spells were fake, their only purpose to give me false hope. My shaky fingers finally came to stop after running restlessly through my messed up hair. I bit down on my lip trying not to burst into tears. This was not going to help, it wasn't going to change anything but only make me sink further into this endless desperation.

I was never going to see him again. And I didn't even get the chance to say goodbye.

I grabbed the spell book in front of me in my hand and throw it away with all my strength. I shouted curses at it, and finally let out my tears.

How could I be alright again, how could I just move on without knowing if I had been the cause of his damnation? If he would suffer in an endless Hell until the end of time because of me?

I sobbed, hugging myself tightly, covering the black, consuming hole inside my chest so that I wouldn't fall apart. Why couldn't he have spared me from all this misery? Why hadn't he saved himself?

Why hadn't he just killed me?

The doorbell rang just then and I let out a curse that my lips had never formed before.

I wiped the sides of my face with the inside of my sleeve, sniffing. I took a few long breaths to calm myself and, with my body heavy, I sat up and walked down the stairs. I knew that I couldn't hide the fact that I had been crying, but at that point I couldn't bring myself to care. I didn't even bother looking at the spyhole before opening the door.

And there, slightly leaning over the doorframe, was a tall man. His skin was dark and smooth, his hair shaved shortly, his lips full and sultry and his ocean eyes shining in the daylight. He wore a cocky, all too familiar smirk, and a green, Celtics shirt.

"Hey." He mumbled, his mouth moving along as he talked, his lips curving to form the word.

A weird sound escaped my mouth, something between a gasp and a sob. A warm, fizzy feeling overwhelmed me, my heart suddenly so lost in it that it momentarily forgot how to beat.

It was him. It was my Jackson. Standing right in front of me.

My Jackson… but _human_.

"So I was banned." He said with a nervous chuckle. He raised his hand to rub the back of his neck. "The punishment for saving an ant is becoming one. Which to you might seem like nothing, but it's a huge insult in my world. Dishonor, shame, spitting on your grave, whatever. But if I had known that…" he trailed off shaking his head with a guilty little smile, the relief and excitement clearly evident on his face despite his attempts to keep his composure. "I could have spared the lives of your ancestors too. Yet, I would never have met you this way, but… I don't know. And I know what you're thinking." He warned, raising his hands innocently. "I could have come sooner, yes. But I had some things to take care of. And I know that you're mad, I get it. And I know you were worried sick, which by the way just proves I was so right before when I said that you fell in love with me – which I did too by the way- but I was hoping that maybe after all you wouldn't really hold a grudge and throw me out cause I don't really have anywhere else to go and-"

I couldn't bear to let him finish. I couldn't hold myself back a moment longer. I launched forward and threw myself in his arms, cutting his sentence in half. "Oh my God." I cried, my face buried at the crook of his neck as his arms wrapped around my waste, pulling me to him. "Oh my God."

I felt him taking a long whiff of my hair, then letting out a sigh of relief. "I missed you."

I sobbed against him, realization finally sinking in.

He was here. He was okay.

"Oh my God!" I cried again, the tears dripping from my eyes for an entirely different reason now.

But I wasn't the only one crying. His head was buried in my hair, his hold on me tight as possible as his body slightly shook. His lips then were on me, reaching everywhere. My hair, my cheeks, my eyes, my jaw. They wiped away my tears and I used my fingers to wipe away his own, and then his mouth finally crashed on mine, knocking the world off its axis. The kiss was deep and passionate, desperate after the time we spent apart, and I melted into him as my brain lit on fire. When we pulled apart for air our breaths mingled together, becoming one with the sweet harmony of the quiet April morning.

And as I examined his face closely, I found that it wasn't quite the same. His skin not a smooth as it had been, lots of freckles dotting his nose, his characteristics not as defined as they used to be and his eyes not shining like gemstones but resembling the warm, sunlit waters of a breathtakingly clear lake. His beauty wasn't inhumanly mesmerizing like it had been before, his face full of perfect little imperfections instead.

Yet, not for a second did he cease to take my breath away.


End file.
